


Blackgate One-Shots

by SubOwOfer



Category: Blackgate (Visual Novel)
Genre: M/M, Murder, One-Shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2020-10-29 06:51:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubOwOfer/pseuds/SubOwOfer
Summary: Just some oneshots of the different Blackgate characters, I can't promise that the depictions of the characters are accurate or well-written. I'd appreciate story ideas/requests.





	1. Jack-1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Blackgate or any of the characters within, I'm just playing with them a little.  
Some of the canon won't be correct after future updates of Blackgate (Probably)  
I know that Blackgate isn't the most popular VN in the world so the traffic here won't be big at all, but I feel better posting these instead of letting them rot on my laptop.

He'd arranged an appointment the day before, left with a smile and a promise to bring the money. He had, the door had creaked open, the old man was vulnerable it would be so easy to just...  
But Jack admits that he was intrigued by the deck of the card lying on the table, might as well get what you pay for, right? Sooth took his time sitting down, offering Jack some tea, he'd refused of course, evidence and all that. Sooth explained what the reading entailed. A card for the past, the present and the future. A patient nod was all he got.

Jack watched the cards get shuffled, the image of his boy finding his own playing cards burns in the back of his mind, it's just as hard to push it down as it's always been.  
THe first card is upside down, but Jack holds back a joke about the fortune tellers abilities. The card depicts a circle with letters on the sides. A clock? "This is a common one here." Sooth says, his tone sad "You've been sent back to nothing, to start over." The wave of bitterness is cut off by the next card. A figure huddles alone in the forest, this card is also the wrong way around. "You may be resisting your development." Sooth says, sipping his tea. "Developing wisdom. Fear is preventing change." 

Jack feels his face screw up before he can relax himself, but Sooth chooses to ignore it, flipping the last card. The skull faces Jack, and his heart plummets silently in his chest. "Death." Sooth starts "Not your's, but something else, it is time to move on, to let go." 

Jack's fingers itch, and Sooth leans back in his chair, the wood creaking. he smiles, warm and welcoming with his empty teacup. "Or..." Sooth begins, the smile audible in his voice, "It simply means the end of me." His blood sprays against the table, a clean slash, he catches his falling chair from when he jumped up and pushes it underneath the table. Soothes eyes don't leave Jack until his head smacks the table, dead.

Wiping his knife on Sooth’s bathroom towels, it slides back into Jack's clothes hidden from sight. He makes sure the towels are straight on the rail before he returns to the main room. Sooth’s blood creeps over the cards, and Jack can't help the sense of unease as he peels the three cards off the table. A book is slid from the shelves, the words meaning nothing to the man.

His exit is calm and collected, the cards weigh nothing in his clothes. He eats at the diner, leaves a tip like his mother taught him. A flick of his wrist sends the cards flying as he passes the dump, the last piece of evidence gone. But as Jack sits on a park bench, pulling out the ball, he tossed it into the air. The bloody hand-print reflected in the moonlight.


	2. Krane-1

"Fourteen."

Fourteen lives he had taken because he couldn't control himself.  
Samson, Jamie, Steven, Harold, Philip, Andros, Farrel, Erhart, Javier, Galen, Thom, Kristo, Silas and Anton. They had all shone a light in his soul, made him hope, to try to be better. He failed each and every time, each death felt like a scar in his own body. He couldn't restrain himself and they suffered for it. Empty shells roamed his home and he couldn't muster the will to hurt them further.

Their hearts are still and the lights gone from their eyes, each and every thing that Krane loved about them are gone, kindness, willpower, hope? Gone. Why the library waited this long to put him on his last chance is beyond him. He knows he didn't deserve to live after Samson.  
"KRANE!" Samson screamed as he bit down, the tear in his throat is visible as the corpse opens the door for him. Harold was moaning before Krane had drank him dry, still buried inside him. Harold's body isn't allowed anywhere near the bedroom. Thom put up a fight, he remembers the look in his eyes as he realized he was going to die.

The human knows nothing about these people, their pain and suffering at Krane's own hands, yet he treats the bodies, the mistakes with respect. The human watches Galen serve him breakfast, thanks it even. Krane burns with shame as the human smiles at Galen. 

Shame is a common emotion now that the human has arrived in Blackgate, Krane finds himself shamed at each interaction they have. Dane is brave, he smiles and grins even when his heart beats wildly in the face of danger. Dane is compassionate and Krane hears Dane's throat constrict at every life he takes. Dane is, Krane realizes as he faces down an entire mob what he's always wanted to be.

A hero.

But, fear is stronger than one man. Stones audibly crack against Dane's bones and he falls with a cry, a plea for him to run. He sees the alleyway, a quick escape is available and waiting for him to flee.

But Krane sees the blood running down Dane's face, and the sword in his hand feels that much heavier.

'If Dane is my hero.' Krane thinks, stepping in front of the human. 'Then perhaps...' The monsters hesitate, seeing the change in Krane's expression.  
'Then perhaps I shall be his villain.' Krane lunged into the mob, steel glinting in the moonlight.

"Fifty seven."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-reading this makes me realize that it's edgier that I anticipated and its short as hell too.  
I don't know how many Krane killed before the MC, so I guessed, and assumed that they were all dudes.


	3. Malo-1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malo reflects, and moves forwards.

Fear was a common emotion. Malo had decided. He's found enough trinkets and baubles to fill his bedroom, each told a wildly different story he imagined. "But they all end the same way" He whispers to himself, he wasn't a religious man, but he prayed for them anyway, hoping that they were at peace.

He'd drifted through his life, average in school, average friends, average parents. He'd never aimed high, never struggled to stay above the bottom. Arriving in Blackgate isn't something he can say he wanted, the first jobs he had he failed at, the bar had been raised and Malo simply wasn't tall enough.   
The construction site provided a trampoline. 'Go in and either die, or leave with something worth 2 months salary.' Malo's luck hadn't ran out just yet he'd decided.

Exploring wasn't an interest before, the spaces below Blackgate, filled with strange ruins and artifacts. He found the junkyard by chance, it stank, it was filled with jagged metal and stagnant water, and the belongings of the dead that nobody wanted. Baby blankets, Filled journals, Cards and lock-boxes. Each allowed him to gather a story that nobody else knew, not even himself.

Mass poisonings, Power outages, Heatwaves and Riots, from the perspective of those pushed to and beyond the brink. Malo hadn't learned the bigger picture, threads left frayed and unconnected, cause and effect remained simple, burst pipes instead of planted explosives. Rust instead of cyanide. Malo remained ignorant to the whole truth.

It was for the best, he had people alive that he could pull from the brink instead.  
"Hey Malo! The same as usual?" The hyena shakes his head "No thanks, I've stopped drinking, just... milk this time." The wolf makes a face "Blegh, but if you're sure..." "I am." There's strength in his voice, but the kind smile on his face is what Alin notices "You should try some." Alin barks out a laugh and Malo turns to the man next to him. "Hey Officer, wanna try this pasty?"

Malo might not be strong or smart, but supporting his friends was something he could do.

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, so this one feels worse than the last two, but I really wanted to paint Malo as just this average guy that Blackgate has taken, who has needed to adjust rapidly to his new situation. I imagine that Malo was heading in the direction of the guy that wrote the note he shows the MC. I like to imagine that Blackgate has this super fucked up underbelly of murder and assassinations that Malo nearly uncovered, but didn't because he was focusing on individual suffering instead of trying to build a bigger picture.  
I might follow up with Malo realizing that something isn't right, but that might go to a Vincent chapter instead.


	4. Vincent-1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent investigates a murder most foul.

He walks in like its nothing, like he hasn't just walked into a room that stinks of the coppery tinge of blood. Sooth is slumped over the table, blood pooling around the floor and coating the small table. He ignores Longma in the hallway, talking to whoever called in the murder. He's done this enough times that all he can think when he looks at his ex-friends corpse is that he didn't suffer enough. Vincent registers that thought with little more than a wince, the man was a lying bastard, better men suffered much more, like…

No.

The tip jar is full, and he sees the glint of an edgeless stone. 'Not a robbery then?' Not that he'd thought that anyway, no signs of forced entry and as he gently pushes Sooth's head back, he can clearly see only one wound, the gaping slash in his throat. He doubts that any home invader would reach and slash Sooth's throat while he was sitting down, he only sat there when he fooled people with his bullshit.

VIncent nearly grinds his teeth as he remembers that man's distaste of writing down his business, a pain before and a pain after death, whoever was at the appointment was either the killer or a prime witness. But with no records of who was there and a lack of cameras in the building, eye witnesses were the only way to try and suss out the killer.

This was already a headache and he'd been there for five minutes. 

A quick scan of the table revealed that three cards were missing, and there's a faint scratch mark in the blood from where someone's claws (nails perhaps?) had scraped. Sooth's bedroom was locked, the key still in the door. The door to the bathroom was ajar, the towels inside streaked with crimson (A Blade's more likely than a claw, but what kind?) Anyone in blackgate could carry a knife with them, but who would carry a knife to cut that deep into someone's throat without sawing through? He cringes slightly at that, that last time someone's throat was sawn open wasn't a pleasant sight.

There's no point in bringing back the towels, it's not like they even have to equipment to determine if its actually Sooth’s blood, but who else could it be if not Sooth's? He leaves the towels behind and lets himself into Sooth's bedroom. It somehow smells dusty, but nothing catches his eye, even the hidden bottoms in the drawers don't yield anything interesting. Vincent hears Kitako mumble something, before the floorboards creak.

"Get out Kitako, go help Longma with the equipment." He yells, almost like an irritated father. He knows that the equipment will be useless, it's all to find meta-physical entities, and from the blood on the towels it can't be a reaper.

So, he summarises what he's found. During an appointment, Sooth's throat was slashed deep once, the cards taken from the table and the weapon was cleaned on the towels, which means that the weapon was physical, which lowers the chance of most meta-physical beings from being the suspect, namely himself, Longma, Roshal and a few others, from being the killer.  
"Vincent?" The worry in his voice isn't unusual for a murder scene, so he doesn't rush to respond "What." His ear pick up the audible swallow "There's a missing book from the bookshelf." He hears the eye roll in his own voice "I'm fully aware." He wasn't, but if he just looks…

He has no clue what book could be missing, the shelves are crammed with old tomes aside from a large hole on the lower left side of the bookshelf. "Longma, I want you to work through the checked out books with me after we get back." He responds with an affirmative, and his hoofed steps leave the room, probably to stop Kitako from breaking something.  
Vincent curses under his breath at the lack of carpet that the fortune teller possessed, scanning the floor for anything that might help him. Green eyes pick up the blue thread. "Sooth never wore blue..." He mutters to himself, he remembers the excuses he'd tell vincent when he was younger and naive "Blue represents sorrow, and what reason do I have to be sad?"  
"You're dead, that's a reason." is the bitter thought bubbling up, but glancing at the corpse and how... relaxed it somehow looks, Sooth knew it was coming and did nothing to stop it, no hidden notes or letters. "Pain everyone's ass" He seethes, placing the strand into a small bag, a scan around the room lead to no other evidence and Vincent was more than happy to let Kitako haul the equipment back in the rain while he went ahead.

The library was filled with morons as usual, monsters squabbling over petty noise complaints or water leaking or the fact that the door creaks louder than someone else's. He ignores them in favor of heading to the desk in his room, Longma follows and the two spend the night pouring over the books, it's boring and when he wakes up, the crick in his neck in nothing compared to the irritation building up.

A murder with a single piece of weak physical evidence, threads go nowhere, they reinforced points, they didn't make them. The checked-out books from the library had to be compared to the ones Sooth had and Vincent knew fully well that Sooth has checked out books from years back and never returned them. He sighs, tired. Sooth had successfully caused another problem for him to fix hadn't he? Like he hadn't done enough, lying to him like that for all those years. He hated that bastard, he wanted Sooth to die slowly, like he was. Alone.

So the chance to find that someone who robbed his bitter heart of the chance the see Sooth suffer? This is personal, and he wouldn't stop.

Even if it killed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to get in with the cool detectives and listened to L.A. Noire music while writing this.  
Also, some of the things felt kinda edgy, but Vincent does seem like this little bitter lonely asshole with nothing to really lose.


	5. Gruff-1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human gets a little drunk.

Is… Is this how humans dance then?

Dane shuffles to the left and flips his hair over his shoulder, grinning. He spins drunkenly, and barely avoids falling over, Gruff rushes to help him, but Dane simply dives away in a swift motion that leaves him shocked, he shakes his head “What did you say?” He asks, concerned.

"I-Iiiiiii” He giggles moving his fists around in front of him." "I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me." Dane giggles further at Gruffs confused expression and dodges out of Gruffs range before he can try and wrangle the human into going back to the cabin. Dane had been very specific about not calling it home.

“You need to go to the cabin.” The boar is ignored in favor of spinning on one foot, before rearing his head back.

“His dick’s smaller than my toes. Yeah, yes, smaller than my toes!” He sings, far louder than he should at this time of night, Gruff makes the mistake of trying to grab him again. But even drunk the human manages to evade the larger man’s grasp, rolling on the pavement before “His dick smaller than my toes I’d rather have Squidward's nose!” Gruff feels the heat rise in his cheeks as he registers the lyrics, and so does Alin it seems, stumbling out the bar door. “Now, who’s this Squidward Dane, have you been hol-”

“My eyelash flew off. When I saw that dick was too soft.” Dane does a squat and falls on his back-side “Need a dick like Rick Ross, or Dora the Explorer get lost!” Gruff tries to grab for him again, which only seems to trigger another verse “Get in my zone, I’m ass naked at home. He knowin’ just when I’m on. I post it up like Malone.” The rap verse only serves to make Gruff’s head spin and Alin gives out a surprised laugh. 

Gruff lunges at the moment Dane spins on his heel, scooping the smaller man up in his arms. “No you fucker!” Dane yells, half laughing. He stinks of whiskey and he feels guilty for not keeping close tabs on him, forgetting that he isn’t as… Resilient as he was. The plaster across his nose in enough of a reminder.

_He felt his nose crunch against his fist and the cry of pain was more than enough to realize that perhaps the human wasn’t trying to downplay his strength. The ice in his stomach only grew when Dane looked up from the floor at him. Gruff knew what unshed tears looked like, Alin had enough when he got too drunk._

“Hey.” He tries to reason with the chaos in his arms, spitting curses that make Alin whistle, completely unhelpful. “He’s your partner.” Alin shrugs and Gruff can’t place why that makes heat pool in his stomach. He halfheartedly glares at the wolf as he adjusts his grip on the human, before walking away. “See you tomorrow!” There’s laughter in Alin’s voice that pulls Gruff under for a second.

_His father's whiskey is half empty, Vincent, eager to keep up, sways in his seat. Alin and Gruff feel the buzz of the alcohol and the thrill of the theft. Vincent picked the cabinet lock, Alin distracted his mother and Gruff asked his father stupid questions until invisible fingers flicked the back of his head. Gruff can’t look his mother in the eyes as he leaves, and the “Stay safe!” she calls hurts more than he thinks it should. Its Alin that bets he can chug the rest of the bottle. The moonlight shines through the library windows at them, and Gruff glances at the trap-door uneasily. Vincent snatches the bottle from the wolf’s hands, gets two swallows in before he empties the rest on himself as he chokes. The bottle feels strangely heavy in his hands and is slid across the floor as it burns. Alin slaps his thigh and howls laughing much to Vincent's anger and embarrassment. The need for silence is forgotten, and Gruff allows himself a chuckle, taking the napkins out of his pocket, he leaned forward to help Vincent dry…_

When he’s back up, he has to sharply jerk to the left to avoid slamming Dane’s head into a lamppost and the human cackles “Y’ tryin’ to kill me?” The jab isn’t serious, but Gruff still says “No.” before ducking through an alleyway. The walk to the cabin is slow, not because of the constant struggling, but because Dane keeps mumbling and the effort to understand and respond to the drunken human requires genuine concentration.

Most of the questions are the same two, being variations of “How can you drink more than me?” and “How are you so tall?” And as the human mumbles about his height, Gruff’s chest fills with something… Pride?”

_“You’ve grown so tall!” She praises him, gesturing to the mark in the door frame and as he looks, he agrees, even if he can’t understand the numbers, he registers the circle as his mark, it’s his favorite shape, the brown marker has long since been lost, but he’s grown fonder of the new grey that now marks his height. His mother leans down and hugs him “My little boy has become so big!” And at that moment, his heart swelled with joy._

Dane stops struggling at the edge of the forest, Gruff asks him if he’s calmed down. Looking into the human's eyes he struggles to understand the emotion for only a second. 

_“What the fuck did you do Gruff?!” Jack nearly shouts, there's blood on his hand, hanging limp at his side and the human scrambling away from him is pale. The boar finds himself stammering like he’s a teenager again “I-I-” Jack seems to be brimming with rage and barks at him “You what Gruff? What warranted this sort of behavior?” His panicked gaze flicks between Dane and Jack. “I didn’t mean to-” “Break his fucking nose!?” Jack looks a second away from emptying a magazine into his skull. Gruff panics on the inside “I’m sorry Dane.” He feels his throat constrict at the pure fear in Dane’s eyes_

“What's wrong?” He asks Dane, he doesn't get a verbal reply, and he lets the human stand on his own, suddenly aware that the plaster on Dane’s misshapen nose is his fault. But Dane doesn't run. “The woods scare me.” It cuts, the pure honesty in Dane’s voice, no sarcasm or anger. Just the admission of fear.  
Gruff’s hand finds Danes before he can stop himself. “I’m here.” He assures him, it feels hollow when he can see the plaster, the injury he caused only last week. Gruff feels hungover with the truth that hangs over him.

_“I’m no-one Gruff.” Dane starts, leaning against the cabin, key hanging loose on his finger “No super-powers, no special skills.” He huffs a laugh that’s clearly not genuine “I’m just a below-average student that was in the wrong place.” He tries to reassure the human, but each thing he says makes a scream building up in his chest. “You’re special whether you know it or not.” His mother's words now only hurt Dane, who glares daggers into the Boar’s skull “You aren’t fucking listening to me!” The hurt in his voice hurts more than when Dane into his cabin, slamming the door behind him, leaving the boar alone with the trees._

“I’m here for you.” Gruff repeats himself, pulling the drunk human to his side. They walk to the cabin with minimal stumbling, Dane can’t even see in the dark, and the admission colors his cheeks pink.

Gruff has to unlock the door for him, the man clinging to his side makes it an awkward side shuffle to get in the door. Gruff passes him a glass of water and watches him down it like he’d done with the whiskey back at the bar. “T-thanks” He gasps, sliding the glass down the counter without care, it hits the wall with a less than a pleasant thud, but doesn't break.

They find themselves sat on the couch, the fireplace unlit, the coat around the human's shoulders wards away the cold for now, and Gruff isn’t ready to leave yet. He knows he has to do something before he leaves. Leaves, the word gnaws at his stomach with worry. He knows Dane will be fine, vincents been drunker and gotten home safe.

_Both he and Alin watch in astonishment as the cat lands on his feet from the open window, a beer bottle in his hand, he downs it and slams it into the concrete, pointing back up to the attic and laughing at the expressions “I told you! He laughs, giddy from adrenaline and alcohol. “All ways feet first!”_

“I’m no one Gruff.” Dane starts, his lips tremble, tears shining in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” Dane can’t react to the arms wrapping around him.

_Arms wrap around his body and fingers rub circles in his back, Gruff sniffs loudly and his mother sighs _

“Oh Dane…” He rocks the human gently. “That's ok, to be no one.” The boar smiles against the human's neck. “Dane-”

_“All that matters in that you’re happy being who you are, regardless of what others think Gruff, I-”_

“-’m not perfect, no one is. Not me, not you.” He pulls away and gives Dane the smile his mother gave him every day.

_“And, whatever comes next, I’ll be by your side.” _

Something blossoms in his chest, light and soaring. He swears he can feel warm arms wrap around him as they had fifteen years ago. 

And for a second?

Gruff didn’t feel so alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the italics might not show for the flashbacks of the story, so I might come back and underline them instead.  
This was supposed to be a funny chapter and not emotional, that didn't work obviously. When the flashback just sort of happened I decided to use them to also show a few things about Gruff as a child, like his favorite shape, just dumb kid stuff. I also wanted to show Gruff's reluctance for change with the coloured pens. I like to imagine that Gruff was a massive mothers boy and her death really fucked him up on a deeper level than he shows.


	6. Alin-1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alin hears the news...

Flint says nothing when he leaves. It hurts more than I should, he knows it even with the heavy haze of alcohol over his mind. At Least Flint had the courtesy of closing the damn door behind him. He rolls off of his stomach and immediately feels something dribbling down his legs. Alin sighs as the hot water hits him. It feels good to remove all the sweat and filth from his body after that. Vincent once told him about sterilising tools with heat before using them again, and when he closes his eyes, the scalding heat almost feels like it can sterilise him too.

Bottles smack together loudly as he shoves them aside, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Kibble with milk, not that he can taste it, his tongue stopped working that well years ago. The wolf leaves his apartment with the bowl already washed back in the cupboard, it's the only good habit he seems to have left.

"At Least I don't smoke." His face wrinkles slightly at the memory of the police officer he was with months ago, stinking of cigarette smoke and the faint scent of blood that he hadn't managed to fully wash out of his fur. Alin can easily admit that the smell of blood sends him somewhere the alcohol can't pull him from, not that the admission would leave his lips. The bottle does however, the liquid leaving a familiar burn down his throat. He belches purely to irritate Helle who waves him off with a disgusted face. Alin could admit that he does it for some reason or the other, but right now? All he's thinking about is finishing the bottle. He does with ease.

Gruff comes around at the same time he always does, Alin never learned to read analog clocks, but the sticks point at the same spaces every time Gruff comes in. Alin isn't aware that the clocks been broken for years. Serving Gruff the same salad that he's eaten for years, he's tempted to ask if he wants his old meal instead for once, but knows that the answer will always be a solid "No." If he was sober, he might have realised that it upset him greatly, but that was one of many reasons he'd started to drink after all.

He'd been given another reason by the whispering. Alin always was a social creature, it got him friends like Gruff, people that were too shy to talk to anyone new at the start. Vincent, who was defensive and insecure. Sooth, who...

Died apparently.

Alin can appreciate the fact that Malo hissed a "Shut the fuck up." as Eterniti gossiped about the fortune teller's death. It doesn't change the other fact. The fact that Alin felt like his world was crumbling again. He leaves the bar with as much stealth as he can muster, tears already pouring down his face.  
"Gone, just like-"  
"Him, the one you let-"  
"No" He gasps behind a dumpster, hugging his knees to his chest hard enough it aches.  
"The one you let die."  
Alin can't form a response to his own head, and sobs instead.  
"You let Sooth die just like-"  
"Alin?" Its Helle, and Alin just shrivels up more. 'Why did she come out for him? She doesn't want to deal with me!' His thoughts throb like a headache, and he's suddenly aware that he forgot to grab a bottle on the way out. And that's the thing to send a spike of panic through him.

"Hey now'" Her accent only comes out when she's surprised, her hands around his wrists keep him in place. "Alin." She tries to sound gentle, but he knows how damn tired she is of this. Of him. Of his constant bullshit.

"No." He pushes her away with more force than he intends, turning away. He ignores whatever she says, his fingers itch, he feels thirsty, his chest hurts so fucking much. He leaves the alley rubbing the tears out of his eyes, he knows where to go, it's just that he has to make a stop before that.

The burn doesn't help. Glass clinks as he tosses it into the trash, he tried the other way in an alleyway, he's too drunk to get it up, he doesn't even want it up. Alin hates how the rain weighs him down more than what he already feels, and he can't help but run into the apartment building when he sees it. The peeling wallpaper and the bare lightbulbs are familiar, and he counts the broken bulbs like he had before. 

One, two, thee, four...

"Five." He whispers, there's tape over the door and its easily ripped off, something desperate in him rises when he finds the door locked. The tiny amount of guilt cast aside when he snaps the doorknob off and shoulders the door open. He makes it a step before he finds himself in the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet. "God..." He gasps, the stench of blood is overwhelming, and he raises his shirt over his snout, the whiskey spilled onto it helps level the churning in his stomach to a more manageable level.

It's not just the smell that's everywhere. Sooth's body has been taken away, but the physical blood pooling around the room hasn't been. Alin is careful to skirt around the pool before he enters the bedroom. It's there, the dreamcatcher, the thing that Sooth promised Alin he could have when he died. When he'd told Alin he'd been young, too young to really care about such petty things. Alin had been more concerned about how easily Sooth spoke about his own death.

"He'd never been phased by that had he?" He mumbled to himself, the shirt still pressed firmly into his snout. He looks further around the bedroom, there's the old messenger bag that Sooth used to take to the library, its quickly filled with anything Alin can find, ribbons, chains, rings and incense before he places the dreamcatcher on top. He takes a final look around the place before he leaves, the churning of his stomach forces him to leave before he's content, the stone that settles in his gut doesn't disappear even after he does.

He sits alone in his apartment. The dreamcatcher sits on his leg while the jewelry is pooled between his legs. His fingers shake as he puts the jewelry together, chains and cords through rings, they connect without an actual pattern, just whatever he likes the look of, the amount of metal hanging makes it weighty in his palm. His eyes blur but he wipes it away with a sniff. The pile slowly empties until Alin can only connect two different cords together, ones a deep green and the other is a thick red cord, he slips the dreamcatcher through the green cord and attaches it to the red with several knots.

Alin looks at himself in the mirror, the mass of jewelry handing off his neck. The various metals and gemstones shine even in the poor lighting of the bathroom. The wolf slowly drags his fingers through them, it rattles and jingles.

"Its so..." He speaks to himself, something close to a grin tugs at his lips "Goddamn ugly." He rears his head back and laughs, his shoulders shake violently and he slumps against the wall, the towel rack digs into his side but its ignored in favour of more laughter. It's gaudy, its louder than any gunshot or scream, the dream catcher looks so gentle surrounded by all the metals and gems and Alin can easily see himself in the fragile circle of feathers, string and beads, fragile, pointless and so alone. 

The weight on his chest provides a comfort he hasn't felt in his life and the wolf can't bring himself to take it off when he goes to bed, the gentle rattling as his chest rises and falls is somehow soothing as he drifts off into sleep.

And the comfort seems to remain in his sleep, for no nightmares plague the wolf for the first time he can remember.


	7. Jack-2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of one of Gruff's flashbacks but from Jacks perspective pretty much.

Jack gently wiped away the blood from around Dane's face, who was holding a towel wrapped around an ice pack to his nose. Jack scowled, angry with himself for not giving Gruff an even bigger talking too before he ran away. Although, the horror in Gruff's face had been enough to satisfy Jack at the time. They had been sat on the changing room bench for an hour already, Jack felt like he was fighting to keep Dane from running off for the first half.

"That-" Jack starts, waiting for Dane’s eyes to look at him "That really freaked you out didn't it?" Jack didn't need to ask, he knew what shock looked like, what look screamed 'Why would you do that?' He's been on the end of it a few times. Dane doesn't respond, shifting on the bench awkwardly with Jack's hand still on his face. Gruff really threw a hay-maker didn't he? Jack saw how Dane's head snapped back at the punch, he's half surprised he didn't die from his damn neck snapping.

"Your neck still hurt?" Dane nods the tiniest amount, refusing to speak. Jacks been talking in the mirror long enough to carry a conversation with silence. "Ki- Dane, take the day off tomorrow, don't worry about the chief." More silence, Dane switches hand and winces at the jostling of his nose but does nothing else. He pats his leg "Alright, I'll be right back." The police station freezer is exclusively ice packs and blood packs and the towels strewn around the kitchen are free picking for whoever comes back bleeding next. Nobody's bled because of another officer since Rotis decided to use his claws in a sparring match.

Jack had been doing the same thing at the police station for years, the same went for his other job, not that he liked to think about that. He's confident that he's seen enough unique injuries to fill an entire book, he's also seen many officers, new and green to Blackgate die on their first encounter because they panic, maybe they've seen something that's scared em' so bad it's killed them on the spot, some realise its them or the enemy and they willingly choose themselves. Dane hadn't, he hadn't been pleased about it, visibly upset even, but Dane was the kind of person to spring back up after seemingly anything physical or otherwise.

Gruff had managed to do what no horror that wandered into Blackgate could. He broke his trust. Gruff had been the closest to Dane from day 1 and he decked the poor boy in the face, who knows why. Gruff was never a malicious man, never driven by greed or anger, Gruff was one of the men that Jack could trust. Whatever reason Gruff had was beyond him. 

Dane was still sat on the bench when Jack returned, glancing at him before looking back at his shoes. "Dane..." It might be time to get him home, or at least somewhere more comfortable. "Do you wanna get outta here?" The human sat up a little. "I'll drive ok?" Dane nodded, wincing. They swapped the ice packs over, Jack dumping the lukewarm packet onto Gruff's desk as he passed. It was his problem now.

Technicality, Jack shouldn't take the car when he's not on the job... But fuck it, he's taken one for worse reasons. Jack opens the door for Dane despite him being fully capable of it, but he doesn't bother to even glare and gets in. "Hey, Dane?" He pulls out of the car park. "You wanna stop at the diner?" He sees Dane almost instantly shake his head. "My treat?" It's still a no apparently, from the way he slumps in his seat.

Forests have always freaked Jack out a bit, thin corridors, tiny elevators, whatever it is, it leaves him feeling unnerved, the feeling is ignored in favour of following Dane into his cabin. The bathroom light is on, Dane doesn't seem to care, but as he slumps on the sofa, he checks just in case. He lights the fireplace with his lighter, he toys with the idea of showing him a few tricks but pushes it away when Dane starts to speak.

"He didn't mean to." He flinches when Jack's head snaps to him.  
"He broke your nose!" Jack protests, almost flinging himself into the space next to him on the sofa.  
"He-" he's cut off  
"He was thinking what everyone else was." Defeat laces the words and it stabs Jack in the gut. "That i'm some super powered being." He leans back, still holding the ice to his nose. "I guess that he just thought is was... doubting myself."

Jack wants to protest, to curse Gruff into some fifth dimension but it makes sense in a convoluted, stupid way. The man wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but at least he was supportive in his socially inept way. "Still... A punch?" Dane shrugs. "He figured I could take it, self doubt and everything." Damn, the kid sounded bitter, and damn again, he hated being called kid. 

"So... You still want me to kick his ass?" Dane would've spit out his drink if he had one. "No!" He does glare at Jack this time, at least half heartedly. "Just... Don't do anything alright? I'll talk to him myself" He takes a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'm pissed that he didn't listen to me, that he assumed he knew better. I'm upset that he decided to throw a punch was the best way to show my 'strength'. I'm embarrassed that half the police station saw me get knocked flat on my ass." Dane shrugs "But Gruff ain't a bad guy, he cares enough to try and help me, as fucked as his method was. Gruff, he's..."  
"Important to you?" Jack finished for him. It wasn't that hard to figure out, they've stuck together since day one, even if Dane switches partners nearly every day, Gruff has always been number one in his book.  
"Ah... yeah." He doesn't blush, but the small chuckle doesn't escape Jack's hearing.  
"I'll speak with him the day after tomorrow." Jack stands up with him. "I'll take the day off like you said." He's glad to hear it. "But..." The human has a slight smile. "Don't give Gruff that much of a hard time alright?"

Jack agrees, although... He does have to do something tomorrow that he suddenly dreads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took too long to write in my opinion and feels way too much like filler I guess? Just not feelin' this one.


	8. Alin-2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could also be considered a Gruff-2 since it focuses more on Alin's thoughts about the boar.

"I honestly don't care mate." He does, he totally does he's blushing.

"You do!" Alin nearly squeals. Dane personally thinks that Alin's way too excited about this, and tries to say something along the lines of "Fuck off." But is interrupted by Alin's loud voice.

"You do!" He seems overjoyed at something that isn't even there. Him and Gruff were partners in the police station most of the time, it's natural to be concerned about the man's health, even more so because of his shithead father. 

"You'd be just as concerned if-"  
"I had a crush on him?"  
"No yo-"  
"Why are you so against it?"  
"Why are you wearing that stupid mass of jewlery?" Alin almost look offended before continuing to rib the smaller man.  
"Well?" He prods "Why are you denying it?"  
"Because it's not true!" Dane's voice betrays him already, squeaking at the end. "I really wish I didn't offer to walk you home." Alin almost looks like he's going to shut up for a second.  
If only Dane was that lucky, he's in Blackgate afterall."  
"Is it because he's not human?" A valid question he admits, but it's not like Gruff has a weird set of genitals or anything, from the look in the locker room, he's quite-  
Nonono, not going there.  
"What am I supposed to say to that?" He glances at Alin, annoyed. "If I say yes, that like saying I have a bloody crush. If I say no, it's also like saying I have a crush." Alin's smarter than he acts if the smug grin is anything to go by. Or he might just be an asshole, he can't tell. Dane pauses for a moment, thinking. "Gruff is..." He admits "Important to me, he's like my best friend I guess." Although the wolf next to him seems to be Gruffs best friend, and whatever in his chest at that chest can go away right now-  
"Best friend?" Alin shoots him an unimpressed look. "Best friends don't hold hands." Dane snorts. "Best friends don't slug you in the face either." It's meant to be a joke, but Alin jumps down his throat anyway. "You know he didn't mean it like that!" Dane smirked "No shit, if he wanted me dead I would be." For a moment, Dane thinks it's worked, but Alin's gaze returns to him "I'm not dropping the subject Dane, just tell meeee." The whining isn't supposed to be this endearing, but it is somehow. "I- fuckin' hell Alin." Throwing his hands in the air, Dane refuses to speak for the rest of the walk back."

"Where are the keys Alin?" His tones way too amused that he wants it to be, and the Wolf with his stupid hearing can tell instantly, a goofy grin on his face. "I dunno, I thought you had them?" Oh great, it's going to be this shit again? "Don't bother with the game Alin..." His hand dives into the Wolf's back pocket, it's not there. Shit. He always hides the key there! Alin stands there with a stupid grin and Dane reaches into each one of the pockets, a button, a condom (Really?), a vinegar packet, someones phone number. 

"Oh Alin, who gave this to you?" It's Krane's phone number, it's the only one that ends in sixty nine, Krane confirmed it himself. "Oh, its that guy in the corner." He sighs "There are multiple guys in the bar Alin, narrow it down a little?" If it's that little asshole, then he's gonna- "It's Rotis' number" Oh yeah, he's gonna shit in his cereal next time they see each other. "It's Krane's number, he lied" He emphasises the end, irritation lacing his words. Alin's face twists "I don't want it then."

"Then get your fucking keys and go to bed!" Dane sighs, he hasn't got the energy to defend Krane at one in the morning, but Alin seems to revel in his bullshit. "I don't have them." Bullshit, surely? "Then where are they?" He tries to look innocent "In the door?" He looks at the lock, expecting them to magically appear. "No, they ar-" His jaw snaps shut with a click. 

They both walk back to the bar completely silent, Alin's lucky he hasn't been abandoned yet.

"So, cut the shit." Dane starts after Alin unlocks the bar with the keys they were still in the door. "Why are you wasting my time this late? Are you taking revenge for the air horn or something?" He's tempted to say yes, but that would defeat the entire point. Pulling out a chair, he sits down, it's clear that he's not as drunk as he usually is, a serious expression across his face for the first time that Dane had seen. 

"It's about Gruff." Oh for- "Really, I told you that-" "Just listen!" It's not firm or loud, it's more of a plea. "Gruff likes you too." Gruff would kill him if he heard him "He's never acted like this around anyone else. He's still a damn virgin to, well, everything Dane. Never tried a new thing in his damn life." He shakes his head. "Never even looked at anyone except you like he does." God, it sounds like a shitty novel that Vincent used to hoard. "You held his hand, thats..." He rubs his neck with a chuckle "Not something he's done with anyone, ever." His mother doesn't count. His father was as absent as he is now.

"Isn't he like, thirty five?" Alin throws one hand up "Exactly! He's terrified of everything." Overexadderation, he can face down things quadruple his size without a sweat, but that's beside the point. "But you?" He leans in "He's trying so hard." 

_Alin's just raided the non-fiction section of the library for whatever's relevant to politics, debate tactics, various political histories. He's tearing into the books just as the slender cat, vincent sits down at the table furthest away, writing away in a notebook, Alin recognises the book about outsiders from the spine alone. He's the new guy in town, can apparently turn invisible. He's half tempted to go over and say hey, but the heavy footsteps from the reception make Alin's hair's stand on end._

_Its them, the famous Tuskweathers, two of them at least. Angela is already in a handwritten history book written by the head librarian Sooth. A force of nature apparently, the young man behind her is one of her sons, he assumes its Gruff, the other sibling is a police officer called Gryz. Sooth had very little to say about Gruff in his book. Alin's good with people, a year in Blackgate taught him enough to know that the same behaviour can be recognised across species. The awkward shuffling and the lowered gaze speaks volumes the longer Alin watches him follow him mother around._

_Alin makes eye contact with the new guy, who does in fact turn invisible until he looks away. The mother and son make their way around the entirety of the library seemingly at random, until they scale the steps to the first floor, walking around until Gruff almost walks into Angela's back as she stops. She leans down and whispers something too quiet for Alin to hear before knocking on the door she's stopped in front of. _

_If Gruff could turn pale he would, and as he quietly returns to the first floor, Alin would have thought the boar was leaving until he makes a sudden turn, walking to Vincent with clearly shaking legs._  
Alin's memory fails him, but the conversation wasn't important, the caption "Intense sweating" however, could almost be read in the air.

"Talking to anyone that wasn't his mother made him terrified." Alin wanted to force at least a chuckle "He's come a long way." Twenty odd years of a long way. "But this is completely new to him." Dane doesn't reply, instead he leans back, a resigned expression on his face. "Fine."  
"Fine?" 

"As in-" He rolls his eyes "I guess I do have a crush on the poor fuck." Dane sighs.  
"Happy?"

More than.

"Suppose I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt like this was a tad forced at parts, but Malo-2 should hopefully be done soon.  
Has more Gruff backstory than chapter labeled "Alin" should probably have? Also yeah Gruff's now somehow a virgin at 35 because he's legit never had any genuine sexual thoughts about someone until now because of reasons ill get to in the next actual gruff chapter.


	9. Vincent-2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent can't find a lead.

Something was missing.

And he had no clue what it was. Vincent puts his head in his hands within the privacy of his room It couldn't be simpler, could it? Every book was accounted for, Fiction, Non-Fiction, everything in between had been looked over time and time again to the same result. The missing book from Sooth's bookshelf was still unidentifiable. No hint, no pattern to follow. Each day was another day that the killer could find another way to cover their tracks.

Three bloody cards lay on his desk, they're stained and unreadable. He never understood tarot anyway. The man that he went to to get them wasn't killer material either, too cowardly, and too useless to help a killer this good.

He wishes it was different, even if in the back of his head he knows that it can't be. He wishes for something bloody like every other murder, a bloody footprint or paw, torn clothing, a fucking motive. "Asshole neighbor" didn't fit, "Vulnerable old man?" it had until the damn jar. No one in this town's too nosy, especially when the library involved.   
He'd have closed the case a week ago if it wasn't Sooth.  
It might be Sooths last laugh, to be a murder than he can't solve. He really knew how to piss him off didn't he?

Vincent left the library before he can convince himself to go to bed, he'd fallen asleep at the desk. Judging from the ache in his neck and the subdued crowds walking to work. There's the whisper of conversation somewhere around a corner. A patrol car rolls around another. It's Krane, a killer with a motive and a method. Simple. Easy.

He'd smelt the blood. He'd even come in to tell him before he could consider asking. He'd been partnered with Dane that day, gone with him to the park when Sooth had been killed. It had been late, outside his normal hours. Krane had ignored it, more intent on walking Dane home that risking temptation.  
He watches Krane slowly drive down the street before moving on.  
The funeral was yesterday. He walks past the entrance of the graveyard, glances in. Nobodys there. The funeral was short, Gruff and Alin had come, Alin had been sober. Gruff had been quiet. He can see the soggy book half-buried in the ground, yesterday's rain had already rendered the word illegible.

The book didn't match the bookshelf either. It was too tall to be slotted in upright. He hadn't bothered flicking through the pages, Sooth had always wanted this book to be his headstone. He'd been morbid about it from the first time he'd asked.

Vincent passes the police station, the bar, the diner and the town hall before he'd returned. It'd done nothing to help him, it just let the library fall into chaos like it always did. The noise was a semi-welcome distraction for a few hours, Malo had come back, a kitchen knife covered in rust. He'd thrown it in the trash outside after Malo had left, good intentions, but a waste of his time. Just like everything else until he hears the car pull up outside.

He's invisible and on the first floor balcony when Lieutenant Jack strolls in, all confidence. He's trying to look like he isn't looking for something, he's got an easy smile on his face as he looks around the different bookshelves. The man's never set foot in the Library before and it's setting off alarm bells in his head. Police officers and Librarians don't mix in Blackgate, so why is a Lieutenant here?

In the time it takes for him to walk back down the stairs, Jack's moved from one side of the bookshelves to the other. Still trying to look like he's browsing the book titles. The few books he takes out are small and after flicking through them they're easily shoved back in and left. There's a pistol clearly in the holster and more obvious is the blue police uniform he's wearing. Jack's still on patrol, yet he's in the library?

The bag over his shoulder isn't part of the uniform though. It's old leather, two straps and a button, hard to open quickly. Which is exactly what he's doing, one handed while the other brushes over the spines of hardbacks. The button pops and Jack freezes, peeking over his shoulder, past Vincent and to the Main desk, precisely where Longma is trying to juggle two phone calls at once.  
It's a swift motion as Jack pulls out a book and slides it into a low shelf, he never stops waking, and Vincent waits for him to turn into another row before he pulls the book out for himself.  
It's Sooth’s handwriting. He gasps despite himself, the pages are old and cracked the pages are filled with tiny scribbles, drawings and the occasional photo. The last entry is cleary titled "Goodbye." He doesn’t read further, he slides the book underneath the bookshelf and follows Jack outside. He doesn't have enough evidence to say its Jack that killed Sooth, not such a high rank officer, he'd be vilified by the police station even more than he is.

Jack's talking on his radio, perched on the hood of the car, the door wide open.   
"You alright Dane?" He hears the heavy breathing on the other end. "Yeah... I-I just need a second to catch my breath."   
Vincent clambers into the car, it rocks slightly but Jack seems to assume it was himself, and it's not long until he's being driven down the roads. Vincent's glad he knows how to suppress his own scent, being this close to Jack would be hazardous otherwise. He sits in the car for hours before Jack's shift ends. He's made no other stops, no snack breaks, no shady deals. It's just weird how Jack does not have a partner. He'll need to find out who that is after he's done.

But not before he follows Jack into his own home. He's clearly someone with money, someone with enough to get an apartment with two bedrooms and wallpaper that isn't moldy in at least one spot. One bedroom empty, the other isn't. The door clicks behind him as he steps in. Vincent turned around surprised, Jack was heading to the kitchen?  
Jack's looking at him, not though him, at him.  
Golden chains shatter as Jack throws a powder into the air.  
"Fuck." Is what Vincent says, spotting the necklace underneath the man's shirt. It's also what he shouts as Jack pulls out a pistol from thin air. Firing without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is much different from how it is in the VN because it isn't fanfic unless you fuck with the plot right? I started writing Malo-2 a week ago but stopped halfway though because I got a cold and my lectures started getting more serious, so hopefully I'll have that out soon, also a Jack-3 (Probably)


	10. Malo-2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malo remembers.

Stone rumbled, something broke down in the depths of the tunnel and Han had been the one to scream at him to run. He had, heart instantly in his chest seemingly beating its way out of his ribcage. He didn't dare to look back, he didn't want to know but he felt that he already knew. Stone grinds together, sealing the tunnel behind the two. Han's already abandoned his backpack, the mirror that they had found couldn't even shatter before it was swallowed. His foot catches something and his heart soars into his throat. Han's hand pulls him up with surprising strength. 

"Just keep running!" Han shouts, glancing back at Malo, who's lungs burn, ill fitting boots rub through fur and the skin is already red and raw. Malo turned twenty two months ago, and twenty is the age he thinks that he'll die. Han is visibly doing better, he's thin and energetic at the worst of times and shows no sign of slowing anytime soon. That is, until the floor rips open beneath them, groaning like a starving beast, they fall screaming, liquid black surrounding them.

Malo showers off the sweat from last night's night terrors, his stump aches.

They've been walking for hours.

The stone had stopped shifting moments after they had landed, but they had scrambled to their feet and taken down the closest tunnel they could find, Han had an obvious limp, but waved Malo off. "I'm fine, really." He'd said, giving him a grin "At Least we're not dead." His voice shakes at that. Malo doesn't comment.

They had packed food in Hal's bag, Malos contained tools, he was stronger than Hal so it made sense at the time for him to carry the lighter things. Malo was grateful that Hal had dragged him to the bakery before this, the aftertaste of sugar was a small comfort on Malo's tongue.

"I'll be honest with you Malo, I have no clue where we are." Hal chuckles "You wanted that promotion real bad didn't you?"

He had, it was the only thing he was good at thanks to Hal, taught him everything he knew really, about the E-Shards and shifting walls, what to take and what not to, Hal was one of the best.

Was being the key word.

He hefts the shovel in his hand "Titanium." Hal had said. "Stole it from my pa before this place swallowed me up." Hal's prized possession was now his, it meant everything, or something close.

Malo screamed, his friend didn't respond, busy with his head rolling on the floor, the light of the elevator shaft made the E-Shard shine, Malo didn't realise what had rolled into his hand until he threw it. 

It had exploded just as it had reached the E-Shard, the fuse had been running down, Hals swan song had cost Malo his arm. Shrapnel riddled the limb, some to the bone, some passing through and missing his head by barely an inch, his legs were cut to ribbons, some found themselves in his chest, the leather coat blocking most of the damage. Wherever Hal had found a grenade was beyond Malo, scrambling into the elevator as the E-Shard reeled.

Hals corpse disappeared from view when Malo threw the emergency switch. The ringing in his ears and the flashing amber lights were the last thing Malo registered before he slipped under.

Malo's right arm guided the left into its socket, the jolt of electricity as they connected shook the remnants of sleep from the man. He watched the fingers move without sensation, no pressure as he pressed them into his palm. It wasn't something he couldn't get used to anytime soon.

The next week had been chaos mentally and physically, waking up in the hospital with the stench of antiseptic burning his nose, the stump ached and stung like static, he'd sat on the same bed for days. He was lucky to be alive. Luckier than Hal.

"I'm sorry Hal." The grave is empty, his body was never found. There's a tombstone instead with "Hal" painted onto the stone. There was a vase sat next to it. Was being the key work. Malo kneels in the mud, uncaring of the cold seeping into his legs. "I'm..." He trails off, not knowing what to say.   
"What can I say after that though? 'I'm sorry that I got you killed? I ruined your chance of living a long life because of what?" Malo glances at his metal hand, clenching it into a fist. "I don't know why Hal, I really don't know." The umbrella in his other hand is Hal's, too small to cover malo's metal arm, the water running down the exposed limb. It doesn't matter, his arm is waterproof.

It's theft. But he needs this. He pulls the bag out from underneath the bed, its heavy with cash. Malo can't stay here long enough to see the note on the bedside counter, he fumbles with the door, dropping the bag to turn the knob. He tugs his coat, the knotted sleeve flops as he jogs away.  
It's more than enough for an arm from wherever Charlie gets them. It's a long few days before he feels the jolt for the first time, the arms strong, stronger than it should be for a replacement limb, it has a pauldron, shiny metal plating and more flexible material for the joints.   
Its heavy and cumbersome, he has to lean when he walks to keep upright. The arm doesn't fit into any of his clothes. He tears off the sleeve with shocking ease, even his leather coat tears like tissue. Malo returns to work after a day, ignoring the looks he gets.

"You need help with that?" Alin's kind enough to grab both ends of his jacket and zip it up for him, its too big and it goes right up to his chin. Something burns in his stomach "Thanks." Its flat, and he leaves before Alin can question his mood change.  
He crushes another button with his fingers and sighs. Another shirt ruined. He tosses it into the trash, fed up with trying. He's crushed cutlery, tools and door handles with his hand, each time brings the liquid in his stomach to a boil.  
Trying to use his right hand only worsens the problem.  
"Just use your other hand Malo." Chrome looks at him like he's stupid, and when Malo accidentally crushes the padlock in his metal hand he winces "I'll just..." He gestures to the side and leaves, Malo breathes a sigh before just ripping the padlock off his locker. He's halfway into changing his clothes before Chrome returns, hacksaw in hand. "Oh." Malo awkwardly tosses the mangled padlock into the trash bin.  
Its horrible feeling like this.  
Everything has to be so complicated, its like he needs help just so he won't ruin something. Being coddled by his friends is suffocating at times, completely embarrassing at others. How can one man be such a burden? He wishes he got a cheaper arm, or even better. That he didn't get his friend killed.  
Perhaps it should have been him that died in those tunnels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bro you just posted cringe


	11. "Gryz-1"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a joke I swear.

God, he hated that fucking owl. What could he say except for “Yes sir” When asked to man the ticket booth, alone. The lone man against a horde of idiots wanting to watch Blue Planet, whatever the fuck that was. He didn’t even know Blackgate had a damn movie theater. Someone’s discovered that popcorn exists but not learned how to cook things properly, the stench of it burning filling his nostrils, there’s already several stains of sodas in the carpet, He needs his fucking blood pressure tablets.

And… Oh good, the human.

“What do you want.” He can’t be bothered to even act like he gives a shit.

“Two tickets for Avengers.”

“Tha-”

“Another ticket for Pacific Rim.”

“Exu-”

“Aaaaand.” Dane pauses, a thoughtful expression on his face.

”Three tickets for the shit in theater nine.”

What.

“Bitch.”

He takes a breath. “Are you here alone?”

“Ye.”

“Why would you buy six tickets for yaself?” These movies aren’t even available, he’s half sure that they aren't real.

“I’m on some new shit.” What? Fuckin’ bathsalts?

“FLEXIN’” Mother above, he really needs those tablets.

“These movies are all playing at nine PM.” They aren’t, they aren’t even real.

“You can’t watch all of them.” Logic doesn't prevail.

“I know you motherfuckers got a pause button.” A what? Who did he call a motherfucker?

“I’m not sellin’ you these SHITS.” Why didn’t he bring a gun again?

“I might have to call the police.” He might, he really might.

“Hand off, THEM GODDAMN MOVIE TICKETS” Fuck that, get an exorcist.

“911, I’m being attacked.” He isn’t holding a phone, he just said that to the air.

“YOU GOT SOME DAMN NERVE.” Dane isn’t moving, at all.

“You come in here, asking for NINETEEN MOVIE TICKETS. And expect me, not to call the police?”

“Shit, das reasonable.” Gryz blinks.

He’s gone. The theater is empty, the lights are off and he’s holding a bundle of tickets in his hand, they all read “Brokeback Mountain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is some shit I decided to copy from a video by Sethical, that was posted by Strange MP4's here:https://twitter.com/StrangeMP4s/status/1190822072051785728  
I just found this funny.  
Also, I made a deviant art account to post memes, not a meme, but this is Gryz behind the counter.  
https://www.deviantart.com/subowofer/art/Blackgate-fan-thing-819229232?ga_submit_new=10%3A1572914079


	12. Dane-1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of nothing.

Dying really makes you appreciate what you had huh? Hindsight 20/20 and all that. I liked to compare my transition to Blackgate to death. Everything I had was gone, right? My family might mourn me if they felt like it, my boss would need to hire another guy and my apartment would be cleaned out after a few months. I’d disappear from everyone’s memory and life would go on.

But I was wrong wasn’t I? I hadn’t lost anything truly important. My memories and experiences had clung to me just as my phone and wallet had, they still worked and I continued to use them. Transferable life skills? Not really, just who I was as a person. But how important was that really?

Very. Where would I be if my mother never kicked me out? Would I have ever even come to Blackgate if I didn’t steal that car? Was that hour locked in the closet vital to my current personality?

Would people like me? My coworkers, my friends, and the strangers I see every day, would they treat me differently, for better or worse? Would Gruff have shot me when we first met?

But these questions are useless now, I can’t see where I am as I fall.

Is this what death is like?

It’s not cold, or warm or anything.

It’s empty, except for the violent tugging at my stomach, but if it’s because of gravity, then where am I falling to? Looking down is the same as looking up, black but I can’t shake the sensation that the space above me is less ‘heavy’ than what’s below.

_He’s dead._

_His pulse stopped hours ago, with no brain activity. He’s truly dead. He smells the blood that’s dried on the human’s lips, his chin is splattered with it, it yields only a sense of horror deep within his stomach. He thought the man to be invincible, in the deep pits in the back of his mind, he remembers how Dane’s arms had wrapped around him and pulled min close, how his pulse jumped, the scent maddening, if he had been weaker then he would have killed another innocent man._

_The entire police station is silent. Gossiping had been put aside, not because of respect but because of the implications. Some believed that he was the only thing between them and the Eternal, some thought Dane wanted to bring the Eternal to Blackgate to destroy everyone. Some just thought he was another monster unlucky enough to get dragged here._

_He had believed all of them at one point. _

_But now all he can see lying on the table is a man that didn’t deserve to die._

Will I get buried? Is it morbid to think about that? Do I care? I wanted to donate my organs, have the rest cremated. I didn’t think about it before, didn’t want to, death felt so far away after the first few weeks. I felt like I had my whole life ahead of me. I had plans, I wanted to learn a new language, see the scrapyard, get a promotion.

But now I’m dead. In some sort of limbo. There’s a familiar tingling of anxiety in my chest screaming at me to look down.

The pitch-black void moves beneath me, very much alive.

_The ache in his back was from perching on the too-small stool for hours, but he didn’t want to leave, leaving meant it was real._

_But it is real. His eyes stare blankly at the ceiling, unresponsive to the lighting, was he like his mother? Was he at peace? Or was there rage in that face? Or was that just the panic in his own chest? He won’t run, he can’t, not now. _

_“I’m sorry.” He’s not sure who he’s talking to._

I gasp, the void around me brightens with a purple glow.

“Oh my god.” Is that…

No, I refuse to entertain that thought, even as it’s snake-like body writhes beneath me.

Because this isn’t fair, I don’t want this, I didn’t deserve this, and with this writhing mass of purple below me, I feel the ice in my veins boil, I scream, throat burning. It jerks to the side, before surging up towards me, maw wide open. 

I have to blink the moisture back into my eyes so they stop burning, but that doesn’t work for the rest of my body. The lights are on, and from the cold seeping into my back, I’m lying on a table. “Holy shit.” What else can I say? I died but didn’t? I had been stabbed in the chest, I coughed up blood, and collapsed. The bandage around my chest is a crisp white, devoid of blood.

Sitting up is a trail, my spine feels like lead. The mirror on the far side of the room tells me that I’m in the police station, the interrogation room to be exact. “Why am I not in a hospital?” I mutter to myself, I can’t speak louder than that, dry coughing to the side. I guess I’ll just have to find some water.

_He’s alive. The pale thing falls off the table and he recoils, eyes wide. He was dead. His hand tightens around the grip, he could finish him off right now. Nobody will protect him. A 45 caliber to the skull has killed lesser. _

_Lesser than the human? He hesitates, he’s recovered from death once, who says he can’t do it again? A blade through the chest leaves enough of the body to regenerate, what about a destroyed brain? A crushed skull?_

_Why does he care?_

_He pauses before the pistol slides back into its holster._

_He doesn’t_

_He leaves, letting the door slowly close behind him. It’s a rainy day, and he’s hungry._

I nearly fall out the door, clinging to the doorframe as I steady myself. Panting. I’m glad the lights are always so dim, I don’t think my eyes could take more. There’s a draft on my legs as I slowly walk, towards the quiet murmurs and scratching of pens. I glance at the watch still on my wrist. 7:38. God, I just wanna lie down again. I run out of wall and finally lookup. It’s silent. They looked terrified, a dead man was walking among them. I ignored them, it hurt to walk, to even breathe, I’m not sure what I’m doing or how, but I had to carry on. The only thing to do was to keep walking, wherever that led.

The door is wide open, I shiver, stepping inside. I latch it behind me, my keys are missing and the lock is broken anyway, probably from where Gruff kicked it open. The shower still works and after half an hour of sitting underneath the stream, I drag myself back into the bedroom. 

They didn’t bother to clean up the blood, I’m too tired to care. Climbing underneath the covers.

God, it’s fucking cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been busy.  
I dropped out of uni because I had a few mental health issues, but I'm mostly fine now. I've got a job and I moved back in with my parents. I'm just trying to work more hours to save for my own apartment. Writing got put to the side, for the most part, had a few scraps that I haven't finished. I'm writing a Mutant Year Zero: Genlab Alpha thing but that's probably going to stay offline.
> 
> Happy Halloween, Christmas, and New Years.


	13. Dane-2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dane helps Gryz extend the police station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is my first attempt at writing dick sucking in this chapter, it's nothing big but there is like 18+ content here so be careful.
> 
> Writing Dialogue is something I try to avoid, but I have to practice in order to get better so that's that really.

"Gryz, wheres the door hole?" I'm half considering using the gun strapped to my thigh to shoot either Gryz or myself as he turns to me, makes an annoyed grunt, and goes "I drew where I'm going to cut it, its quite clearly in permanent marker."  
He waves at the wall with a huff "See?"  
"Do you have literal brain damage." It's more a statement than a question. He glares at me "Obviously not."   
"Are you sure."  
"Yes."  
"Really."  
"Yes."  
"So why isn't the hole cut?"  
His glaring hasn't stopped "Fine, I'll do it now then." I'd laugh at him for walking face-first into a brick wall if I wasn't trapped in the bricked-up room with him.  
"Oh."  
"Fucking 'oh' really?"  
"You didn't stop me!"  
"I was fitting the lights!"  
"You didn't think to bring in the saw?"  
"The saw is quite clearly meant for wood, not brick." I pause "When did you lay that last brick?"  
"An hour ago."  
"So its set then?"  
"Probably."   
I really don't want to hear this, do I?  
"So what have you been doing?"  
A pause. His eyes shift around the room, I nearly throw something at him.  
"Nothing? Fucking nothing?"  
"Watching you?" Oh wow, darwin award right here. "Thank fuck we have a vent." I drag the stepladder to the vent, already climbing up to leave his dumb boar ass to rot. "You'd come back to life anyway." He shrugs, seemingly unconcerned about his own asphyxiation. "Chief, with all due respect I'm gonna just climb through the vents and leave you here."  
"So no respect at all."  
"Not a fuckin' drop."

My radio crackles, Jack's voice coming through. "Errr... everything alright in there Dane?" I grunt, forcing the vent cover to pop off the wall. "Yeah, just don't shoot the vents, that's me." The static crackling though is almost painful in the tight space "You do know that you're radios been on for the last few hours right?" I roll my eyes "It wouldn't, oof, work if it was off Jack." I bang my head on the side as I squeeze into a corner. "No, I mean your response button's been stuck on."   
"So everyone heard me call Gryz a fat prick then?" Someone below laughs "You never actually said that." "That's cool and all, but how do I actually get out the damn vents my elbows hurt."  
"Jump!" Someone below me shouts, sounds a little like Plox "Great plan. Jack, what time is it?"  
"Uh, nine forty." Wow, that's late as hell.  
"I'm never helping extend the police station again." I'm not even getting paid extra, being in the same room as Gryz for longer than a minute is known to raise blood pressure. 

"Dane?" I turn my head even though I'm just looking at more vent "Hey Krane, where do I leave the vents?"  
"I can show you, just wait there, don't get stuck."   
"You gonna send me a map?" Nothing, I just settle the best I can and flick through radio channels, listening to various chatter until I see Krane poke his head around a corner. "Why didn't you just tell me, man? It's getting hot." I crawl up to the man, tired.  
"The other corner leads into a drop, and you can't turn around." Krane does some double-jointed shit with his body, it's fucking crazy. He folds himself in half and manages to turn around. "Follow me." 

"Dude, that's hot as hell." More laughter from below, Krane jerks his head to look at me and quickly does the same trick to turn towards me again. "Showoff." I laugh nervously, why the hell would he crawl closer after I said that.  
For a guy crawling in the vents, he moves with grace and plucks the radio from my shirt and with a quiet beep it turns off.  
"Dude." Why the hells he crawling-  
His lips connect with mine.  
"I'm glad." There's a rare smile in his voice, and the kiss deepens. I want to grin, but with his tongue in my mouth I settle for dragging my own tongue across his fangs, much less dextrous but getting a shudder out of Krane is always worth it. "Do, uh." I pull away, wiping a strand of spit away from my mouth. "You want to take this outside?"   
"Yes." Another fold and I'm watching his ass while we crawl. 

Jack really never knows exactly what to do with Dane, then man has proven that he can't truly die, but Jack's still worried that Dane could simply get trapped somewhere with no escape, dying on repeat.  
At least his nightmares aren't about himself anymore. Jack can't hear Gryz in the room, he either isn't moving or the walls too thick to hear past.   
He steps away from the wall, as much as he'd like to just go home, he can't morally leave a man to starve, even Gryz.  
"To the construction site, it is." He huffs, deciding to just take a car. He whistles to himself, a little off tune. Missing the two men behind the police station completely.

"Dane." A moan, Dane keeps his eyes closed, head bobbing back and forth, Krane's fingers find purchase on both the brick wall behind him and the thick hair on Dane's head. The faint smell of dust makes his nose wrinkle, but the soft velvet enveloping him, dragging slowly up and down his length rips those thoughts from his head and slams them into the nearby dumpster.  
Dane makes some noise, probably a chuckle. Krane moans again, before gently pulling Dane's mouth off of him. "You good Krane?"  
"We should take this... elsewhere." Krane tucks his dick back into his pants, and Dane huffs a laugh that Krane of all people goes commando daily. "Yeah, ok, we could go to Gruffs? Or yours?"   
"Gruff will be pleasantly surprised." Krane smiles, feeling adventurous and much to his joy, Dane does too.

"Hey, you in the bathroom?" I call out, kicking off my shoes. Krane's decided to take the opposite method, taking his uniform off shirt first, folding it neatly and dropping it on the floor, before undoing his belt and sliding his pants down to his thighs, sitting down on the couch, slipping off his shoes and then his pants fully off, I give him a look and dump my pants and shirt on the floor in a pile.  
"Yes." I'd feel bad for stopping him from sleeping but its not like he isn't just going to love this. I lean over, above Krane's crotch and try my best to give Krane the sloppiest fucking blowjob of all time. It reminds me of an old video of a woman and a grapefruit and I laugh or rather choke when Gruff opens the door to the bathroom.  
"Dane thought you could use some company." I glance at Gruff. There's a tent.

Showtime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this completely on a whim after I remembered the Drake & Josh episode with the treehouse, the kissing in a vent was a surprise to me too, so was the subsequent dick sucking.
> 
> It doesn't count as porn if its like six lines right?


	14. Vincent-3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent helps Alin with a computer problem and heads home a different way than usual.

"Idiot." He mutters, his tail swishes behind him angrily as he peers hard at the computer screen. He has no clue how the stupid wolf even did it, but he has. The computer makes a harsh beep again as he tries to access the file explorer again. "How do you lock your entire computer storage?" He hisses, mostly to himself. Not that it stops Alin from replying, half offended, and half embarrassed. "It's called internet security."  
"We don't have internet." Vincent snaps, he really needs to stop Dane from talking to Alin so the dumb canine doesn't get any more ideas, literally anyone else would make a better friend than Alin, even the stuttering hyena he 'spoke' to yesterday should have befriended the human before him.  
He sifts through the settings, his eyes already burn from the screen and he quickly turns the brightness down. He's not one to give up easily, but is fixing a computer for someone he doesn't want to ever be in the same room as even his job?  
"What were you trying to keep hidden?" It's not an accusation, they're both familiar with this routine, not that it stops Helle from looking over in mild concern from the table that she's wiped down three times already.  
"Finance." He cuts vincent off before he can comment "It's for Helle." He almost thinks its a nice gesture before Alin takes another long swig from the bottle, instead his lips curl in distaste.  
The next few minutes are silent aside from annoyed sighs and mouse clicking. This is why he doesn't use computers, instead simply writing what he needs down.  
"Why didn't you just ask Dane?" He throws a glare Alin's way and he shrugs.  
"Can't find him." His neck nearly snaps as he goes back to glaring.  
"So he's missing?" While the human can seemingly come back from the dead, Vincent would rather not have Dane disappear in the middle of what might be a cult uprising, not while its sights were seen entirely fixated on said man.  
Alin lightly shakes his head "He's probably at the Diner?" They both make a slight noise of disgust, there's a reason neither of them or Gruff goes near that place.  
"He probably won't go missing there." His voice drips with sarcasm and this time Alin shoots him a glare. He finds a section called 'file security' and he clicks it, quickly scrolling through the various options, and with a roll of the eyes and another click a window appears asking for a specific folder to be added. He selects the folder title 'MONEY' and gives it a password.  
"The password is 'Alcoholic'." He sets the computer into shutdown, knowing full well that Alin will want to check and walks out the door, turning invisible just as the door shuts behind him. 

It's late and he'd rather do anything than set foot in that disgusting place, but the threat of letting Dane disappear is more concerning than getting another hour of sleep. The diner is a long walk across the town, past the police station and the park. His ear flicks as something rattles in a nearby alleyway, there's the faint sound of music as he approaches that Diner. It's more elevator music that something you should hear in a Diner, and he thinks its somehow more depressing that just eating in silence.  
He can see Dane sat at one of the tables near the window, across from Krane as he drinks something, possibly coffee. It's hard to determine wether he's glad that he's not sitting with Jack, a few tables behind them watching the back of Krane's head like it's grown another eyeball. But then again Krane hasn't needed the offer of money to murder the people close to him.  
If he wasn't watching, he wouldn't have seen Krane's ear twitch ever so slightly towards him and if he was some form of sociopath he might have found that entertaining. He watches Krane take a dainty sip from his cup, he's probably listening to his heartbeat and wondering why he's being watched.  
Kranes leans on the table towards Dane, and Dane gives him a weird look as Krane starts to speak. He can't lipread the bat or the human. Dane looks right at where VIncents standing and gives the empty space a curious grin. Jack looks puzzled for a second before leaning back in his seat and glancing at the ceiling, rubbing at the bandaged stab wound on his shoulder.  
Jack mutters what Vincent assumes to be a 'fuck' if Dane's curious expression is anything to go by, Vincent can't decide if Dane's near-constant curiosity is a blessing or a curse. He settles for curse as Dane gets up out the table and downs his coffee before heading outside.  
"Hey." Dane says, assuming Vincent decided to just stand near Krane's window and standing right next to it.  
"Hello, Dane." He can't keep the resignation entirely out of his voice, almost dreading whatever he's about to be asked.  
"Gruff said you don't go to the Diner?" It's clear that he's nervous even mentioning the Boar around him, like he's going to immediately yell to anyone that can hear about Dane's little crush on the cop.  
"I don't." He sighs, already tired of the conversation "For a reason."  
"Huh." The human hums "Why?"  
"Ask Alin, he's looking for you." He makes his steps deliberately loud as he walks off for the first few steps.  
"Wow, rude is your middle name." There's a smile in his voice that he ignores. It's the smell of ozone in the air that makes him pause, the tingle of metaphysics in the air. He follows it on instinct, giving chase into an alleyway. The darkness is oppressive here, where the moons and the streetlamps can't reach. He follows the scent, its thick and clogs his nose enough that he has to suppress a cough, especially after hearing the qiuet clopping of hooves on the concrete. He makes note of the strong misdirection metaphysic that the alleys are lined with, the secret patterns etched onto the walls similar to the old temples and tombs he used to explore.  
The feeling doesn't weaken but rather changes as he reaches a nondescript door, the markings etched into it are the exact same ones that explorers like him might have been eviscerated by when opening old chests. Metaphysics relying more on a hard and sudden blast of force that the subtle misdirection of the mind.  
To remove the metaphysic is the safest way in, but whoever put it there is going to notice, or even detect its removal as soon as he does it. Or he can use the loophole any good explorer knows, and just crawl through the vent that gently bellows out air. He crouches down, pulling the multitool from his pants.  
"Is this part of your investigation?" Krane stands behind him, silent and deadly. Vincent's mind helpfully supplies that Krane might be one of the few men that he can't beat in a fight. Although he's happy that he's kept his pulse steady.  
"It might be." He hisses tersely. He'd rather not have anyone hear them talking and Krane seems to understand, moving closer to the wall and keeping his voice down. "What do you think is here?" There's no point in telling Krane to go away, instead, he asks "How did you pass the misdirection metaphysics?"  
In the near complete darkness an even darker shape waves at him playfully, this time his heart does skip a beat.  
"My shadow is unaffected by these... metaphysics." The word sounds weird on Krane's tongue and Vincent winces internally, hoping that Krane isn't going to try and call it 'magic'  
His 'shadow' prances to the door, reaching for the handle.  
"No! Idi-" The door swings open silently and he gapes for a moment. Krane looks sheepish, but heads towards the door quietly.  
"Let me go first." Irritated, vincent pushes past the officer, heading through to the doorway and down the steps. The stone-cold around him, and he ignores the sinking feeling in his stomach as Krane sneaks down with him.  
The floor is scuffed and clearly has a lot of traffic, but the tunnel, or is it a hallway? Has no lighting or wiring to speak of. The two men don't need the light, but Krane lightly grasps Vincent's arm "There are many up ahead." He nods and carries on and soon he hears a strong voice speaking out, he can tell he's large, perhaps larger than Kitako.  
"This human threatens our way of life." He says, the numerous beasts watching him all nod and murmur as Vincent peers out the doorway, eyes widening at the sight. The beast is massive, with curled horns thicker than his arm, he towers above everyone else, even if he wasn't preaching on a stage like a generic cult leader.  
He double-takes, shit.  
"We need to go." Vincent whispers, taking a step back into the tunnel. Krane quietly supplies "The insightful." There's a trace of fear in his voice, and that does nothing for the Librarian's nerves, neither does the leaders next line.  
"We must act now!" He yells out "We must save Blackgate no matter the cost!" The crowd cheers, daggers in the air, where did they even get those? Fuck, he needs to warn Dane, or Gruff, or Alin, whoever he finds first.  
"We will succeed!" The crowd cheers louder, pretending to be heroes behind their masks and robes, one leaps onto the stage.  
"We- What?" A flick of the cultist's wrist and the horned behemoth has a knife in his throat. He roars and the walls shake.  
"Shit." Vincent watches as the knife is ripped out, a large fist sails over the cultist as he rolls out the way, tossing the mask aside and slipping another knife out of his cloak and successfully nailing the leader in the chest.  
Kody's black eyes stare as the other cultist rush the stage, and he tosses something from within his cloak.  
VIncent can feel the air shift as Krane turns and starts to sprint down the tunnel, the next moment he knows why as the room goes white with a deafening bang. Something rams into him, pausing as he realizes what he's run into, before sprinting down the tunnel.  
Vincent takes a single look at the enraged look on the leader's face and the crowd of cultists starting to recover from the blast.  
He turns tail and runs too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck canon, all my homies hate canon.
> 
> Edit: The wiki says that Malo can manipulate fire, which I somehow never picked up??? My man secretly a pyromancer without me knowing smh.


	15. Malo-3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crome's gone missing, Malo looks for him.

The forest always looked ominous to Malo. Always dark, always just... there. Waiting for something, waiting for him? Or anyone else foolish enough to venture inside? He's afraid that Crome might be the forest's next victim. His grip on the flashlight wavers and then tightens. He needs to find him. He takes the first few steps into the forest, hoping to whoever's out there that he doesn't lose his way.  
Crome hasn't been to work in a few days. His locker was unlocked and the only thing it held was a notebook. A note was inside, 'behind the scrapyard' it had said. That's where Malo had decided to start, knowing fully well that it was late. Nobody would notice his disappearance until the next morning, long enough for him to have walked miles away from Blackgate. 

"Just..." He glances back, looking at the streetlamps "Just keep walking straight." That's all he can rely on, Helle told him about the trees, how they seem to regenerate each night. He still took a knife with him, just in case any of the horror stories are true. He looks up at the moons. They're to his left, through the thick canopy of leaves.  
He's left with his thoughts as he slowly makes his way through the trees. His palm aches for the familiar weight of his shovel, but leaving it at home feels like it was the best choice. If Crome really is out here, he might need both hands to help.  
The trees part after ten more minutes of walking, the path is dirt with obvious tire tracks, but looking down the path shows that it just leads into a wall of trees. He looks at the moon again, it's behind him as he walks down the path. Malo's instinct is to follow the path while in the forest, keeping it to his side. But going back in suddenly feels daunting, and he keeps to the middle of the path. It's enough to encourage him to continue, even as the night gets longer and his worry grows. Fueled by both concern and curiosity as the path turns and the trees tighten. He keeps the flashlight pointed straight down the path, who knows what creature he might awaken is he swings it about?

Malo follows the turn and quickly lowers his flashlight. Its a cabin with a light coming from inside. The building is clearly old and as he puts a boot on the deck it groans. Is he here?   
"Crome?" He whispers, creeping up to the door. He realizes he's stooped low, just like he does when beneath Blackgate searching for relics. There's a dusty window to the side and he peeks in. The cabin is nearly barren, there's a single painting on the wall of a dark forest. A table with a chair and a lantern sit on it. It's where the light's coming from. It's from the construction site supply shed. Malo pushes the door open quickly, he must be here, it doesn't matter why.  
As he slowly tours the cabin, Malo decides that it's more of a big supply shed than a cabin, there's no bedroom, no bathroom and the only door is locked. He knocks on it. "Crome?" He says, quiet enough that hopefully, nothing hears him from outside.  
No response, is he alright? Is he unconscious? Dead? He's got to be in the room right?  
Malo swears quietly to himself. Two years of sneaking underground have made making noise a taboo that he carries even outside the construction site. As he pulls his fist back something gnaws on his mind, like the quiet sound of something tearing?  
Metal shatters wood as he punches, the door moves against its hinges and they rip off the doorframe. It smashes onto the ground with such a loud thud Malo crouches low on reflex, scanning the room.  
There's nothing inside aside from shelves lined with rusted and broken tools, it reminds him of the construction site storage shed and he turns to the lantern again, to verify if it truly is from the storage shed.  
"Huh?" There's another door. Opposite the entrance, right next to the painting. Malo grabs the lantern and then goes to the door, glancing at the painting again. It's the same, a dark forest. Malo turns the handle and pulls, then pushes the door open. He takes a few cautious steps out when there's a sudden drop, he yanks his foot back with a gasp. There's a pit right in front of the door, he crouches at the top, lowering the lantern to see.   
Bones. There are so many bones, skulls, and the occasional piece of torn fabric. Malo freezes, staring at the pit. The skull closest to him is familiar, dragon-shaped and he cries out in horror. Another realization has his eyes water, his heart thuds as he realizes that he isn't underground.

So why can't he hear any wind?  
He steps back into the cabin, refusing to turn around. Closing the door and backing towards the entrance. The painting's changed, its the pit, filled to the brim with skeletons, one with a metal arm. Malo suppresses a scream and turns, sprinting out the cabin.  
The forest comes to life with a wailing, like Vekk's cart it pierces his eardrums painfully. "No..." He sobs, something sees him, somewhere it's watching him. His eyes scan the trees, the moons are above him. Like they're looking into his soul, he rips his gaze away. Something scurries back into the trees.  
"No, no, no!" He sobs, too his hands shake and he can't reach for his bag where the knife is. His hands are full with the flashlight and the lantern. He hears its claws as it dashes past behind him, he keeps running. He has to run before it finishes playing with him.   
It screeches as it dives from the forest. Malo screams, pulling his metal arm in front of him like a shield. The glass of the lantern smashes against the metal forearm and the oil spills. The monster hisses and spits as the flaming oil lands on it and it scrambles back.   
A pale, lanky figure with a gaping hole in its head, there's sharp teeth lining the entirety of the hole and it has no eyes but somehow stares him down. His heart beats in his throat and the familiar feeling of adrenaline is coursing through his body.  
Malo feels the manic energies of the spreading fire like his own skin. His metal arm blazes with flame and with another scream of fear he runs at the creature, slamming his arm forward into its body. The flames intensify and hiss as the monster's flesh boils. It slams onto the dirt with a long screech. Malo forces himself to focus, forces the flames to use its body as fuel until it's consumed and made ash.  
His arm stops burning as he drops to his knees, exhausted. Looking over the prosthetic it looks fine, aside from a few scorch marks.  
"H-holy shit..." He gasps, glancing at the moons and putting them to his right. He needs to tell Dacarabia about Crome right now. He takes off into the forest again, leaving the ash behind as the wind slowly scatters it. The energy of the flame refuses to waver, and Malo blames it on the adrenaline. The journey back takes not as nearly as long back, and he approaches the streetlights, glowing a bright orange. He feels the energy get stronger, he frowns, clearing the last tree and stepping on the concrete when he looks back up.

Blackgate is on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hesitant to do a Crome chapter or an Eterni chapter because I don't like Crome enough to play his route again, and Eterni is legit just someone's fursona. So I might just pretend he doesn't exist? I imagine his owner paid a good chunk of money to get his character in the game so I'm unsure whether ignoring it completely or writing him wrong is more disrespectful.
> 
> I mean, I imagine other characters are also other peoples fursonas, but they feel much closer to the actual story of Blackgate. Gruff, Alin, and Vincent feel more like the 'canon' routes to me?


End file.
